Четверо полевых агента мобильной оперативной группы в штатском сидели вокруг стола, наслаждаясь напитками в ожидании заказанной еды. Не каждый день на главной улице открывается новый ресторан, не говоря уж о таком, который, по сообщениям, за последние две недели также открылся в Задворках Сохо, Трех Портлендах и многих других экстрамерных городах. Заведение открылось к празднованию сезона, и оранжевые вывески кричали о больших скидках на все в честь торжественного открытия.
Агент Райанс взболтал свой чуть теплый кофе в кружке и еще раз обдумал свою миссию. Его заказ - ризотто с помидорами и оранжевым перцем - должен быть проверен на наличие аномальных свойств, а затем передан фонду для дальнейших действий. Если же он ничего не обнаружит, то просто сытно пообедает.
Прибыв первой из группы, специалист Уотсон наливала уже третью чашку чая. Она выбрала "Копченое Грибное Рагу" из тематически жуткого меню, и пока она будет есть, она будет следить за проявлениями тауматургии в их с коллегами еде.
Тактические агенты Прайс и Стюарт по очереди сдавали друг другу карты, делая ставки чипсами из тарелки, большинство которых по мнению Прайса достанутся ему. У них была самая простая работа - защищать двух агентов под прикрытием в течение всего приема пищи, который почти наверняка пройдет без малейших проблем.
Через несколько минут (и четвертой чашки чая Уотсон) загруженный работой официант наконец-то принес им заказанные блюдо, каждое было щедро украшено неопознанной - но скорее всего вполне обычной - нарезанной зеленью, и экспериментальный кусочек пиццы Стюарта подтвердил, что она была хорошо приготовлена, но без чего-то необычного. Прайс проиграл последнюю горстку чипсов и чтобы отвлечься сосредоточился на наблюдении за другими посетителями ресторана.
- Что-нибудь не так? - спросил он своих подопечных, на мгновение отвлекая Райанcа и Уотсон от их скрытых сканирований.
- Нет, насколько я могу сказать, - Райанс поднял взгляд от своего ризотто, сканирование аномалии было наполовину закончено. Он криво улыбнулся. - Пока все просто крышесносно.
Агент Нэйтан Райанс быд немедленно убит своей едой.
Ресторан погрузился в тишину, его многочисленные посетители не могли оценить ситуацию, так как кусочки мозга в томате были разбросаны по стенам, потолку и большинству блюд. Трое оставшихся агентов МОГ Лямбда-14 стояли как вкопанные, двое из них немедленно потянулись к скрытым радиопередатчикам.
- Подтверждаю присутствие несодержащихся объектов эс-си-пи, - начал Стюарт, выплевывая наполовину съеденную пепперони с сыром.
- Запрашиваю дополнительную поддержку, - закончил за него Прайс, доставая пистолет и направляясь к кухне. На окна и входную дверь опустились толстые стальные ставни, предотвращая побег запаниковавших клиентов, а спасительная поддержка уже спускалась на здание.
Specialist Watson had been pushed under the table, and was busy plucking chunks of her coworker's head from her clothes. Once relatively cleaned, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the traces of magical aura surrounding them, trails of waiters and diners alike. She opened her eyes in a flash, something in the back of the kitchen catching her eye, and made to stand up just as the front door was blown in, and the One Star Reviewers of Lambda-14 flooded into the restaurant proper.
They were met with a hail of teeth and cooking implements as they joined Price at the kitchen door. The rabid staff inside hurled themselves into the waiting bullets of the task force, seeming to hardly notice as they were ripped to shreds, caring only that they took as many with them as they could.
"Get us in there!" Watson instructed the nearest agent, dragging Stewart with her towards the diminishing throng of fighting. Together, they broke through the breach, and into the disorganised chaos of the kitchen proper, armed companions taking the lead and capturing any who they saw, and killing any who resisted.
The kitchen surfaces were covered in jars and pots of all sizes, a brass jar filled with some orange liquid, a sack of malformed potatoes, a bowl of pink bonbons and colourful gumballs, and unidentifiable vegetables that had grown in shapes and colours not thought to be possible. Watson dragged Stewart past these, and the mangled corpse of agent Richard Price.
Against the advice of the containment team securing the restaurant floor, the two agents followed the faint trail of energy through a thick oak door, and into a dusty back room of identical doors.
"These are ways." Watson informed her partner, grasping the handle of the door in front of her. "I can't tell where they lead."
She turned the handle, and allowed Stewart to carefully inspect its interior.
"Identical to this room. Check the other doors." He closed the way, and turned to the others. Each one held the same interior, even though Stewart was positive that they lead far beyond the exterior walls.
Eventually, they had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that all of the doors lead to identical rooms, and were now stood before the original door, debating if they should proceed through. Stewart passed through the door, feeling the unfamiliar chill of briefly leaving reality. He stood in wait for Watson, and listened carefully for any other sounds.
"We're definitely not in Kansas anymore." Watson muttered as she joined him, immediately regretting her choice of words as she recalled the event that started this whole mess. No red fruit came for her however, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she gestured for Stewart to continue with the search.
The door cracked open, dust billowing behind it, as Stewart stepped onto black and white tiling once again. Chefs and their assistants turned with surprise and anger upon their faces, their seasonal cooking well and truly disturbed by these interlopers. They soon had weapons in their hands, and were soon upon the two agents with guttural shouts. Watson cried out as Stewart shoved her back towards their entrance.
"Get back, I'll keep 'em busy. Tell the others what we've found!" Stewart called back without looking, his gun thundering again and again, until it clicked empty. He threw it aside, and replaced it with a fallen oversized tenderiser. He was still cracking heads when Watson slammed the door between worlds shut, and broke its frame with a kick. Energy whipped and cracked through the room as the way was forcefully shut forever. Hopefully forever.
She left the back room in a stumbling run, finding the first people she could to tell them that Kiaran Stewart was most likely dead. If nothing else, he was trapped in an unknown reality with a very angry restaurant. Watson solemnly made a haphazard path to her table, and took her things to leave.
INCIDENT REPORT LAMBDA-14 A1
On 31/10/20██ four agents of MTF Lambda-14 ("One Star Reviewers") were dispatched to a newly opened restaurant in ████████ city, which was suspected of anomalous activity.
These agents were:
- Agent Nathan Ryans (DECEASED)
- Agent Richard Price (DECEASED)
- Agent Kiaran Stewart (DECEASED)
- Specialist Rhianne Watson, Thaumaturgy expert
Of these four agents, only Specialist Watson survived, having followed a thaumic energy trace to multiple inter-planar doorways (which have since ceased function) with Agent Stewart.
Agents were successful in identifying multiple anomalies, including uncontained instances of SCP-504, SCP-1176, SCP-1200, SCP-1600, SCP-████ and frozen eggs of SCP-1325
Containment teams secured the location ("The Ambrose Restaurant") suffering █ fatalities and ██ injuries.
Involvement of further SCP objects is under investigation, notably SCP-1921, as behavior of encountered opposition mirrored that of those effected by this SCP.
Registration of Ambrose Restaurant chain as a Group of Interest is pending approval.
MTF Lambda-14 has been reassigned to investigate and contain all Ambrose Restaurant establishments and associated Persons of Interest.